


Howl to Me

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everyone Is Alive, Illusions to Kate, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Talia Hale & Claudia Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles goes into the woods one night looking for ingredients for a spell. He meets a werewolf, and an unlikely relationship is forged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl to Me

Stiles should have known how stupid of an idea it was. Going into the woods isn’t illegal, but it certainly isn’t suggested. Going into the woods after the sun had set is even worse. If either of his parents find out where he is, he'll be grounded and the lecture alone will make his chest ache with their disappointment. 

Growing up, his mother made sure that he understood the gift of magic that thrummed through their bloodline. His father made sure that he understood the customs of various creatures. And they both made sure that he understood that everyone had a right to life, whether they were a human or a fairy or a vampire or a mage. No matter the discrimination and fear that other people felt about the mystical creatures that were real, everyone had a right to live their life without being hunted and persecuted. However, though he was raised to understand that the creatures of the world are no less than he is, the forest is dangerous. Even more so in the dark.

But there’s a flower he needs to complete some spell work, and the only place that he can get it is in the forest. And the only way that he will be able to recognize it is by its glow, so it has to be dark or he won’t be able to find it. 

He rubs at his arms, cold because he isn’t wearing a thick enough jacket, and continues trudging through the forest. The shadows stretch around him, dancing with the wind, beckoning him to get lost. He ignores them, glad that he was taught how to resist their charm, and his eyes catch on a soft pink glow. The flower is beautiful, with pale petals and a rich scent. Stiles is reaching out to cup one gently, ready to pluck it and go home, when there’s a rustle behind him. His body freezes, muscles locking. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and turns around slowly.

A large wolf, fur the color of night, crouches close to the ground. He’s watching Stiles with eyes glowing gold. Werewolf.

“Shit.” Stiles whispers, trying to remember everything that he’s been taught about an encounter like this. He holds his empty hands out to the werewolf, and keeps his gaze steady. “Um, hello. My name is Stiles. I’m sorry if I’m trespassing on your territory. I was just looking for some ingredients for a spell.” The wolf slinks closer. Stiles gulps. “If you let me by, I promise I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to trample through here without getting permission. Honestly, I didn’t even know a pack occupied this area.”

The werewolf scents the air, determining if Stiles is a threat. Convinced that he’s not, the wolf sits down and inclines his head towards the flower. Stiles glances back at it, even though he knows it’s probably stupid to take his eyes away from the creature with the fangs and the claws. 

“Oh, um. Is it okay if I take a flower? If not, I understand. I don’t want to be disrespectful to you.” Now that the wolf has seemed to accept him (and isn’t baring fangs or growling), it’s easier for Stiles to remember how connected werewolves are with nature, especially if it’s in their territories. It’s polite to ask before he plucks a flower for himself. 

The wolf stares at him, unblinking for a long moment, then inclines his head again. Stiles takes it as a yes. Under the creature’s watchful gaze, he takes the pocket knife from his backpack and very carefully cuts one of the large flowers free, placing it in a jar when he’s finished. 

“Thank you,” he tells the werewolf as he zips the jar back into his backpack. “I appreciate it.” He clears his throat. “Well, I should head home now.” He meets the wolf’s gaze and repeats, “Thank you.”

The wolf lets him by without rising, and Stiles is on his way, pleased that the interaction passed without him losing a limb.

\----------

Days later, he’s back in the woods. He can’t help it, he underestimated the number of petals that he needed for the spell so he needs more.

“Fantastic, just great. I can’t believe this.” He’s lost. The forest is hard to navigate in the dark. Even though he had found it once before, and despite being sure that he was headed in the right direction, he’s lost. Looking around, everything is unfamiliar. It’s impossible to get a sense of direction when everything is so dark and twisted. He continues forward. 

The naiad takes him by surprise. Stiles knows that he’s definitely lost when he sees her. He didn’t even know that he was close enough to a water source for one of them to find him. She appears from behind one of the trees, scantily clad in a moss robe. Stiles gulps and freezes, immediately going on the defense. He knows better than to try and get away once her pale blue gaze lands on him and she smiles. With the crook of her finger she beckons him forward, and he can feel the pull to follow. It makes him shiver violently and take a step back. 

“I can’t go with you,” he states clearly, calling on his magic so his voice doesn’t shake. Maybe if he can reason with her, she’ll let him go without a fight. “I am already bound.”

She only pauses a moment, tilting her head to one side and regarding him with piercing eyes, listening for a lie. Her finger crooks again and the pull is harder to resist. He can feel his body ache to go her side, fight to be near her. The werewolf shows up before he can do something stupid like give in.

He comes crashing through the underbrush and stands between Stiles and the water creature. His mouth hangs open with a snarl. Seeing the fangs and hearing the growls should make Stiles nervous, but he recognizes the wolf’s coloring and can’t help but let some of the tension drain away. If the werewolf hadn’t hurt him the other night, it seems safe to assume that that he won’t hurt him now. And besides, he seems to be trying to protect Stiles. If he wanted him dead, he would never have intervened.

Unfortunately, the threat from the wolf is not enough to make the naiad back away. Known for their jealous nature, the apparent loyalty from another creature makes her hiss and pounce forward. Stiles tumbles backwards, caught off guard, and hits the ground. Lucky for him the werewolf has better instincts. Even though it doesn’t make any sense why he would protect Stiles, he meets the naiad’s attack with one of his own. They grapple with each other for a drawn out moment, all claws and fangs, and then the naiad hisses again and disappears back into the trees. 

Stiles is on his feet and moving towards the werewolf before he recognizes how bad of an idea that could be. The wolf watches his approach warily, but not once does he bare his fangs or growl. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks. He isn’t stupid enough to touch the werewolf, but it’s a near thing. He wants to run his fingers through the fur, check for wounds, see if it’s as soft as it looks. “I needed another flower, and I thought that I was going in the right direction, but I guess not. Thank you. For, you know, saving me. That was-. I’m grateful that you were there to help.”

The werewolf watches him closely, eyes glowing. Eventually he stands up, turns and starts trotting in the opposite direction. He looks back once, to see if Stiles is following, and then continues forward through the forest. Stiles blabbers on to him as he follows, explaining what spell he’s trying to accomplish and how foolish he feels for nearly being caught by a naiad. 

“If my dad knew he would be so mad at me,” Stiles admits around a huff. “He would lecture me for hours for not being aware of my surroundings.” The wolf pauses and huffs, as if asking a question. “He’s a sheriff in town, and he already thinks that I’m reckless. I would be in so much trouble. My mom would be pissed too, mostly because I didn’t let them know I was going out here. Hey, don’t give me that look! They never would have let me come, and I’ll have you know that this is an important step in my education. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

The wolf huffs again. It almost sounds like he’s laughing. For some reason, it makes Stiles happy that he managed to amuse his four-legged companion.

The wolf watches as Stiles carefully removes the flower from the bush. When he’s done, he turns to leave but stops. The werewolf tilts his head to one side, waiting. For some absurd reason, Stiles wants to stay. He shakes it off, smiles once more at the wolf, and stumbles back to where he parked his car.

\----------

This time the sun is out when Stiles steps into the woods. He isn’t looking for a strange plant though. He’s looking for the wolf. Despite trying to leave it alone, Stiles couldn’t resist the urge to see the werewolf again. So he packed a lunch and got on his way. He whistles as he ducks around trees, hoping that the werewolf is close enough that he can hear him, then hoping that he is curious enough to seek him out.

It takes ten minutes before the black wolf shows up, perched on a rock ahead of Stiles, watching him. 

“Hi,” Stiles greets, probably too loud. His heart is thumping, as if it’s just realized that he’s actively seeking out a werewolf’s companionship. He ignores it and holds up his bag. “I brought lunch.” The wolf doesn’t move. “You know, like a sort of thank you for saving my life.” Still nothing. “I made sure your sandwich has a lot of meat on it.”

That finally is enough for the wolf to leap forward and stand next to Stiles expectantly. With a grin, Stiles lowers himself to the ground and opens the bag. A big black snout tries to push its way inside, and with a laugh, Stiles pushes him back. “Patience, dude. It’s wrapped in plastic, and I’m sure you don’t want to eat that.” Carefully he removes the werewolf’s sandwich from its wrapping, and holds it out. The wolf, mindful of its teeth, takes it from his hand, eating most of it before Stiles can even unwrap his pb&j. Hiding a smile in his sandwich, Stiles pulls a second one from the bag. The wolf perks up at the sight of it.

“So I think my chemistry teacher is out to get me,” he says. The werewolf stills, glancing up at Stiles with a confused expression. “Seriously, he hates me so much. Today he tried to give me detention because some chemicals got spilled on the floor. And I was on the other side of the classroom! What, did he think I had spilled it with my magic? Luckily Danny admitted he was the one to do it, so Harris couldn’t punish me. I hate that guy.”

The werewolf, who still looks confused, goes back to picking at his sandwich. 

Pleased that his companion hasn’t taken the food and left, Stiles launches into another story, this one about his best friend Scott. When the wolf is done eating, he gets to his feet, silencing Stiles’ tale and making something sink in his chest. But the werewolf only moves over a little bit, before laying down and nodding for Stiles to go on. With a grin, he does.

\----------

It becomes a habit after that. Every day he can (which is practically every day after school), Stiles drives to the preserve and hikes into the woods. The werewolf is always waiting for him. For the most part they have a snack while Stiles rambles on about something or other.

It takes two weeks before the werewolf gets comfortable enough with Stiles to come closer, close enough to curl against the boy’s legs. When he does it that first time, Stiles freezes up. It makes the wolf climb to his feet again, ready to move away. But Stiles reaches out and winds his fingers through the werewolf’s fur. He knows that touching a wolf against their will can be dangerous, but he doesn’t know how else to get the wolf to stay.

“It’s alright, you can sit there. I’d like you too. It just surprised me.”

The werewolf watches him for a drawn out moment, with enough scrutiny that Stiles himself almost feels like scooting away. But he keeps himself still, not even dropping the hand he has against the fur on the wolf’s back. Eventually the werewolf lies down again, pressing his body into his side. 

Stiles pulls his hand back, and gets a sudden idea. “Hey, do you think you could tell me your name? I mean, I just keep referring to you as Wolf in my head, and you already know who I am.” The wolf looks at him like he’s an idiot, and opens his mouth, letting his tongue roll out like an answer. “I mean; do you think you could spell it out for me in the dirt?” 

The werewolf considers it for a moment, then stands up and sticks his snout in the dirt. Only to promptly lift his head up and sneeze. Stiles laughs, and crawls over to kneel by the werewolf. “Okay, maybe not. How about this: I’ll write out the alphabet and you can point at the letters to your name. Sound good?”

The werewolf nods, and watches as Stiles uses a stick to spell out the alphabet in the dirt. He walks around the letters, and touches his paw to the D. Stiles writes it down and nods for him to continue. E-R-E-K. That spells…

“Your name is Derek?” The wolf nods. It makes a giddy laughter unfold in Stiles’ chest. He holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Derek.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but offers up his paw anyway. The weeks of getting to know the wolf have given Stiles some firsthand knowledge about his expressions, so he knows that his companion is amused. 

Stiles moves back over to the tree he leans against. He doesn’t hide his pleasure when Derek stretches out beside him; nor can he hide his surprise when Derek noses under his hand.

“You want me to,” he trails off, because saying ‘pet you’ feels rude. Derek seems to understand his hesitation, because he bobs his head up once before laying it on his paws. And well, Stiles is too excited about the prospect of running his fingers through the wolf’s fur. He makes sure to keep away from his neck because he doesn’t want Derek to feel threatened. His favorite thing to pet turns out to be his ears, and by the pleased rumble he gets in response, Derek seems to enjoy it too.

Stiles learns to read Derek’s moods and expressions. Even though he remains in his wolf form, Stiles starts to feel like he understands his companion. For instance, the day after Stiles misses one of their meetings (Scott wanted to hang out and had guilt-tripped Stiles for ignoring him), Derek refuses to lay close to him. It takes offering his bag of crackers for Derek to curl up with him again. And one day Derek’s expression is downtrodden. He doesn’t really respond to Stiles’ stories like he normally does. So Stiles does the only logical thing, which includes pushing Derek onto his side and curling up with him for a nap. Taking a nap becomes a habit for them after that, and so does wrestling.

His mom brings up his disappearances at dinner one night, five weeks after Stiles’ and Derek’s initial meeting. 

“I haven’t seen Scott in a while,” she says, ladling stew into his bowl. 

“He was over here a few weeks ago,” Stiles responds, trying not to feel guilty for that. 

His dad snorts. “He used to be over every other night. Now he’s never around. But neither are you.”

Stiles picks at his stew and shifts under they’re scrutiny. “Well, I mean, I’ve kind of made this new friend, and we hang out a lot.”

“A girlfriend maybe,” his mom probes, lips curled into a smile.

Stiles stutters. “No, not a girlfriend!”

Her smile widens. “A boyfriend then?”

Both of his parents laugh at how red his face gets. “Not a boyfriend either, geez. He’s just my friend.”

John doesn’t look too convinced. “Just a friend that you see every day of the week for several hours? And one that you haven’t told us about.”

“It’s just-. I don’t want you to disapprove of him.”

That raises his father’s alarms. “Why would we disapprove of him, Stiles? Is he some sort of criminal? Is he dangerous?”

Stiles groans, but he’s backed himself into the conversation. There’s no escaping it now, not with the concerned expressions on his parents’ faces. “No, he’s not a criminal. He’s different though, not some kid from school.”

Claudia reaches out and touches the back of his hand. “Sweetie, your father and I are not going to disapprove of him, okay. And you should know by now that different doesn’t bother us.” To prove her point, a candle on the other side of the kitchen flickers to life. “Okay?”

Stiles nods. He knows that they’re okay with the supernatural, obviously they are. But it’s still hard for him to admit, “He’s a werewolf.” It’s harder to see the shocked expressions from his parents. 

His dad recovers first. “A werewolf? Should I even ask where you met a werewolf?” His voice is firm, as if he already knows about his son trampling through the woods at odd hours of the night.

“Um, probably not.”

Claudia laughs, bright and vibrant. “You sure don’t do things by halves, do you, Stiles? Making friends with a werewolf. I am curious though how you’ve managed it. Wolves are typically very closed off creatures.”

He exhales some of his pent up tension. It feels good to talk to with his parents, to admit to the unique friendship that he’s made. “I was looking for this plant for one of my spells a few weeks ago. That’s when we met. Derek found me right when I found the flowers, and gave me permission to take one of them. But then I needed more, so I had to go back into the woods. I got lost. Luckily he found me and showed me where I needed to be. And then I wanted to thank him, so I made him a sandwich and went back out there. And well, I just haven’t stopped.”

“Only you could befriend a werewolf like that.” His dad sounds proud of him though. He doesn’t even get mad at him for going into the woods without letting them know. 

“But what do you do every day? I mean, I assume this boy is still in his wolf form.”

“He is. Mostly I just tell him about my day while we eat. Sometimes he’ll chase me through the woods, other times we take naps. You know, normal friend stuff.”

Neither of his parents seem to agree that it’s normal friend stuff, but they don’t argue. Instead his mom just says, “But don’t forget about Scott, sweetie,” and changes the subject. 

\----------

Derek’s tongue rolls out of his mouth, his expression one of triumph. He’s currently laying across Stiles’ chest, having pinned him during their wrestling match. Stiles had been holding his own for the majority of the fight, but then Derek pounced and now he’s pinned under the wolf.

“Dude, you’re so heavy.” He pokes at Derek’s side. “I need to stop bringing you food, you’re getting fat.” Derek huffs, insulted. It makes Stiles laugh. “Okay, not really. But you are heavy, so get your ass off of-.” He stops when he feels Derek’s body tense up. “Derek?”

The werewolf growls, not the playful sound he makes when they fight. This sound is all threat. His eyes are locked on the trees to their right. Derek rises off of Stiles slowly, and positions his body so that Stiles is protected from whatever’s coming. 

“Scott?” Stiles says when he hears his name called out. He would recognize that voice anywhere. 

Sure enough, Scott appears with a wide smile. “Stiles! I’m so glad that I-. Woah, Stiles, dude. Maybe you should, uh, come over here.” His eyes are glancing from Stiles to Derek (who stopped growling when he heard Stiles say Scott's name) and back again.

Stiles snorts and reaches out to rub Derek’s ear. “Derek’s fine. He’s not going to hurt me.” The werewolf looks appalled by that statement. It makes Stiles laugh and shove at his shoulder. “But dude, what are you doing out here?”

Despite his friend’s reassurance that the giant wolf is safe, Scott keeps his gaze locked on Derek just in case. “I uh, stopped by your house and your mom said that I could find you out here, if it was important. And I saw your car so-.”

“Hey, it’s all good. Come on over and have a seat, then you can tell me what’s going on.”

Scott hesitates for a moment before coming closer. He goes to sit beside Stiles, but the space is suddenly occupied by the werewolf, who looks all too pleased when he’s allowed to spread himself over Stiles’ lap. So Scott sits on the ground a few feet away. 

“So, what’s up?”

Scott watches his friend rub at the werewolf’s ears for a moment before focusing on what he drove out here for. “Dude, I asked Kira out!”

“No way!” Stiles raises his arms in excitement. “I’m so proud of you, Scottie.”

“It was kind of an accident. I mean, we were talking about the homework and I just blurted out the question. I was so embarrassed, because we were talking about fractions, and really it didn’t make any sense. But then she said yes, and now I’m freaking out because I said that I would pick her up later but I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Take her to diner. It will give you guys a chance to talk, so you can get to know each other.”

“But every time I try to talk to her, everything gets awkward!”

“You understand that talking is literally the most important part of a relationship, right? Besides, what’s so bad about being awkward. Kira obviously likes it, or she wouldn’t have said yes when you asked her out. And she’s pretty awkward herself, Scott. So you don’t really have anything to worry about.”

That seems to relax his friend, who lays back against the ground in relief. “Okay, but where should I take her?”

“Scott, it really doesn’t matter. She’s just happy to be spending time with you.”

“Thanks, Stiles, you’re the best.”

They fall into a silence after that, until Stiles starts up a conversation with Derek. Scott gives him a strange look, before laying back down. They both leave when Scott declares that it’s time for him to get ready to pick Kira up.

As they’re walking away, Scott asks, “Isn’t it weird, hanging out with him like that? I mean, he can’t talk back to you, so isn’t it just you?”

Stiles frowns. “It doesn’t matter that he can’t talk back to me, Scott. It’s-. Hanging out with him is enough. And besides, we do lots of stuff. Yesterday we went hunting for frogs. A few days ago we picked herbs for my mom. We do a lot.”

Scott isn’t convinced. “But you don’t know anything about him.”

“That’s a lie, I know a lot about Derek. Like, I know that his favorite color is blue, and he likes chasing butterflies, and his favorite type of lunchmeat is salami.”

Scott shoves at his shoulder. “Okay dude, whatever you say.”

\----------

When Stiles reaches their normal meeting spot, Derek isn’t there yet. It makes Stiles dance in victory at having finally beat the werewolf. He sets out lunch and flops to the ground beside the food. And waits. And waits. 

Ten minutes later, he’s still waiting. It makes something ugly curl in his chest. He starts whistling to keep himself busy. Ten more minutes has him up and pacing, unable to keep himself still. Just as he’s making the reckless decision to search for the werewolf and ignore the risks, a twig snaps.

“Derek,” he calls out, turning in the direction of the noise with a hopeful expression. The wolf that he’s become so familiar with doesn’t appear. “Derek?”

A masculine voice calls out, “I-. It’s me.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open in shock. He glances around frantically for the source. “Derek? You’re here?”

It takes a moment before the voice responds, “Yes, Stiles.” He sounds shy, each word soft. “I wanted to hang out with you, for real.”

Heat unfurls the tension in his chest. Derek wanted to meet him, to let Stiles in on his human side. It makes his heart thrum in joy and anticipation. Derek’s voice isn’t quite what he expected it to be. It’s not as deep or as rough, but there’s a gentle timber in it that gives Stiles chills.

With his breath held, he waits for Derek to show himself. When he does, Stiles nearly collapses. He’s beautiful, with dark hair that Stiles wants to run his fingers through, and stubble he wants to rub against.

Derek ducks his head shyly as he comes to stand before Stiles, looking up through dark lashes when he’s close enough. The sight makes Stiles’ breath hitch. He aches to touch, to be close enough to catalogue the colors in Derek’s eyes and press the knowledge of it into his heart. It’s too much, too soon, and it makes him quake. Derek smiles, and Stiles feels broken apart.

“Hi,” he whispers, reaching out to brush one finger against Stiles’ cheek, as though he’s feeling everything magnified too and can’t resist. “Is this okay?”

Stiles nods, frantic, but keeps the rest of his body still so he doesn’t press closer. He knows that touch to werewolves is intimate, so he’ll let Derek set the pace.

Derek’s smile is soft and pleased as he traces the lines of Stiles’ face almost reverently. After a few minutes, Stiles decides to take a risk. With his heart pounding, he slowly tilts his head to one side, baring his throat to the werewolf.

Derek’s eyes flash gold and his breath catches. “Do you know what you’re doing?” Stiles pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and nods his head, shivering when Derek traces the tendon in his neck. And then he’s pressing in closer, stopping only when the tip of his nose is pressed to Stiles’ skin. “Can I scent you?” He sounds shy again.

Stiles breathes out, “please,” and then Derek wraps one hand around the back of his neck to hold him in place and breathes deeply. 

Stiles doesn’t know how long they stand like that. It feels like an eternity has passed and yet no time at all when Derek finally pulls back. His eyes are warm. Stiles feels like, in that moment his whole being has been put back together, recreated and exposed.

“Hi.”

Derek laughs deeply and steps out of Stiles’ space, over to where their lunch is. It takes Stiles a few deep breathes before he’s able to follow.

\----------

From that meeting on, Derek always shows up in his human form so that they can talk. Stiles learns that Derek comes from a huge pack, the most respected one in the United States. He has two sisters, one older and one younger, and his older sister is married and has two daughters. It’s obvious from the way that he talks about them that Derek loves them a lot. He’s very family oriented and loves to spoil his nieces. He tells Stiles about his friends, about how Erica and Boyd are engaged and how he thinks Isaac is gathering up the nerves to court his younger sister. 

Each afternoon spent getting to know the werewolf makes Stiles feel more, want for more. 

He brings it up to his mom two weeks after Derek’s first shift. Or rather, she notices that something is up with her son and decides to question him about it.

“You know how I know that werewolf?”

She snorts. “You mean the one that you hang out with every day after school?” When she sees her son blush, she startles. “Has he shown you his human form?”

“Yeah, I-. It happened a few weeks ago.”

She wants to complain about him not telling her, but she can see he’s already nervous about something. “And?”

Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “And I think I’m in love with him, Mom.” He hears her sharp intake of breath and clenches his eyes tighter. Then his mom rests her hand over his. He opens his eyes.

His mom is smiling. “Oh sweetie, that’s wonderful!”

He flops back against the couch. “No, mom, it really, really isn’t." She makes a questioning noise that tugs at his chest. It makes him close his eyes again. “Mom, he’s a werewolf.”

“Stiles!”

He shakes his head. “Mom, he lives in the woods with his cool pack, and there’s howling at the moon and running around in his beautiful wolf form with other beautiful wolves that howl at the moon.”

When his mom is silent, he opens his eyes. She’s watching him with an enduringly fond expression. “Oh, baby.” She scoots closer and tucks him into her side like he used to do when he was little. “Stiles, maybe it’s time that I give you some advice about love. It isn’t something easy, and that’s what makes it real. There’s always going to be something wrong with the situation. It’s willing to work through it, to work for it, that counts. Can I ask you something? Is Derek worth it?”

Absurdly, he feels like crying. “He feels worth it.”

“There you go, as simple as that.”

“But what if I’m not?”

“Well, I suppose that’s the other thing about love, the return of it isn’t always guaranteed. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t try to find out. Otherwise it’s all just what-ifs and missed chances.” She clucks her tongue. “And Stiles, you are worth it. If he can’t see it, then he’s not.”

\----------

Keeping his mom’s advice in mind, Stiles shows up to their meeting spot determined. Derek arrives not long after and frowns when he sees his companion. 

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” He closes the distance between them and takes Stiles’ hands, which are shaking with nerves. “Did something happen?”

He meets Derek’s concerned gaze. “I have something I need to tell you.” That just seems to confuse the werewolf, but he nods for Stiles to go on. “I, um-.” He swallows, gathering his nerves. He keeps his gaze steady. “I love you.” He pauses, restates: “I’m in love with you.”

Derek’s eyes widen. He doesn’t say anything.

Stiles pulls his hand back, aware how his heart is beating faster. “Well, I mean, I think so anyway. It could be something else. Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep. Yeah, that’s it! I uh, didn’t get enough sleep. I should probably go home and nap so I feel better. I don’t want to declare anything else to anyone.” He feels sick and more than ready to flee.

“Stiles, I-. You can’t.” 

That makes him flinch back. “Oh, uh, right. I’m just-. Please forget this happened.” He keeps backing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll give it a few days, just in-.”

“Stiles! Let me explain, please.” He reaches out for the other boy, but freezes when Stiles flinches away. His expression crumbles. 

“You don’t get to look like that,” Stiles whines when he sees Derek’s expression. “You don’t-.” He stops and takes another step back. “Just-. I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

Derek watches him go with sad eyes.

\----------

Neither Claudia or John bring it up when Stiles comes home early. And they don’t ask questions when he gets home right after school the days following his confession. He spends the whole weekend curled up in bed, and then feels dumb for being so caught up in his feelings. Memories of Derek’s broken expression flash in his mind. It makes him feel terrible for leaving him behind like that.

On Monday he goes back to the clearing. Derek is waiting for him in his wolf form, sprawled across the rocks. Stiles is relieved to see him. It makes the tension leave his shoulders. 

When Derek rises to his feet and watches his companion with a weary expression, Stiles launches into conversation. “So, we didn’t have any lunchmeat, so I hope you don’t mind pb&j today.” He sets out the food quickly and starts detailing his day. It keeps his attention off of Derek’s hesitation. It keeps him distracted enough not to be hurt when Derek lays across the clearing when he finishes his sandwich. 

He doesn’t stay as long as he normally would, but he does leave Derek with the promise of coming back.

The next day, Derek is waiting in his human form. The sight makes Stiles stumble back.

“Hey,” he says, looking around instead of at him companion. “I went to the store yesterday, so you have a salami sandwich today. It was too much watching you struggle with the peanut butter yesterday.”

Derek continues to watch him, not saying anything, not laughing at his joke. Stiles just flops to the ground and tries to ignore the tension between them. He tosses the other boy his sandwich so he doesn’t feel obligated to move any closer.

He starts telling Derek about his day, hoping that it will make the werewolf relax. But all it seems to do is make things worse. He eats quickly, too aware that Derek hasn’t even unwrapped his food. And he wants to say something, apologize for making everything bad between them. He wants to ask if everything can go back to normal, because he misses how easy their friendship was. Or maybe recommend that, if it’s too much, maybe they should stop meeting up. But he’s terrified that Derek will agree and then he’ll have to give him up.

As he picks up his trash though, the silence becomes too much. It breaks him. “Okay, listen, I’m sorry I didn’t-. I obviously went too far, alright. If you ask me to leave, I’ll go and you won’t have to feel bad anymore. I won’t come back. I won’t bother you again.

Derek’s face is confused. “Stiles, I don’t want you to leave.”

He snorts, unable to help how self-deprecating it is. “You could have fooled me. You didn’t even eat your sandwich! It’s like you’re here, but at the same time you’re one hundred miles away. And I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

The werewolf makes a frustrated sound. It looks like he wants to close the distance between them but resists. “I can’t figure you out! Do you know how frustrating that is? My wolf can’t read you!” His fists clench. “I’m trying to give you space, that’s all. And yet you still go out of your way to provide for me.”

“I didn’t ask for space! All I want is for things to be normal between us again. How is that so hard to understand? I just want us to be normal again.” He feels something inside of him break a little more. “Derek, you might not get this, but you’re my best friend. You mean everything, and it sucks feeling like there’s this fission between us that will never be fixed! I hate the feeling that being away from here would be better than being here, because you’re my best friend and it’s hard to think like that.” He presses his fists against his eyes. “The ball’s in your court, Derek. Either we try to get back to where we were before, or tell me to leave if you don’t think that’s possible.”

There is a long drawn out moment of silence. “Stiles, I-.” He sounds so frustrated. If Stiles didn’t hurt so bad it would make him laugh. “We’re not going to even address what you told me?”

“Nope, I want that as far behind us as possible, in all honesty.”

“You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”

He presses harder against his eyes. “No.”

There’s another long moment of silence. “Okay. Okay, let’s go back to normal.”

Stiles exhales, glad that he wasn’t told to leave. Except, when he pulls his hands away and opens his eyes, Derek looks downtrodden, just like the day of Stiles’ confession when he was left behind. Maybe their friendship can’t be fixed.

The days following seem to attest to that. Both Stiles and Derek are quieter. They try to work everything out, each of them putting the effort in. But everything just seems to fall short. On Thursday Derek doesn’t even show up for their meeting, and when Friday comes around he doesn’t offer any explanation for his disappearance. 

Stiles brings it up to his mom after dinner one night. Her eyes get sad, but she doesn’t have any world-shaking advice for him. All she can do is pull him close and hold on. John makes everyone hot chocolate and the three of them spend the night watching movies from the 80s.

Derek doesn’t show up again on Monday, so Tuesday Stiles doesn’t show up. He uses the time to catch up on his homework, then on Wednesday Scott asks if they can have a bro day and so Stiles skips their meeting again. And on Thursday he gets detention. 

“Is that it then, Stiles,” his mom asks him when he comes home right after school on Friday. 

He shrugs and refuses to meet her eyes. “I’m not feeling well today, that’s all.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Stiles,” she warns. 

“I don’t know what you expect from me, Mom. Do you know how hard it is for me to sit there and watch him be miserable? It’s easier for me if I’m the one who walks away, instead of him doing it.”

She moves into the living room and pats the couch. “Stiles, did you ever ask him what he wanted? I know it’s easier if you’re the one to walk away, but did you even consider asking what he wants?”

He sits beside her. “Yeah, I did. And he said he wants things to be normal. But nothing is normal anymore. I screwed everything up.”

She brushes his bangs out of his face. “No, sweetie, you didn’t. You were just trying to be honest to yourself.”

“Yeah, we’ll look where that got me. Now I’ve lost him as a friend. It’s so much worse than pinning.”

“How about you help me make dinner tonight, how does that sound? You used to help me out all the time. It will be good.”

He smiles at her. “I would like that.”

She pats his leg. “Great. Go wash up, okay? And then we’ll get started.”

He rushes upstairs to dump all of his school stuff in his bedroom, and then goes to wash his hands. He missed cooking with his mom. It used to be the time that they would spend together, before everything with Derek started and he didn’t have the time to help out anymore. 

“It will feel good to help her again,” he tells himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He tries to ignore that being with her in the kitchen means leaving Derek alone again. He tries to ignore the sad eyes and guilt. It doesn’t really work, but then again he didn’t really expect it to.

When he gets downstairs, his mom is just getting off of the phone. She smiles brightly when she sees him. “Are you all ready?” He nods. “Great! So I was thinking we could do the pan-fried pork chops for dinner, and you could make those green beans your dad loves.” He nods again, falling into the familiar rhythm of sharing the kitchen with his mother. She turns music on, and before too long they’re dancing and singing along. When John gets home they pull him into the kitchen and he does his own awkward dancing. Stiles and his dad get into a flail-off that makes Claudia laugh and shake her head at them. 

By the time they get the table set, the mood in the house is full of joy and love. And then someone knocks on the backdoor. Both John and Stiles looks surprised, but Claudia just smiles. A woman wearing a thick cloak with the hood pulled up steps into the kitchen. Stiles’ jaw drops when he sees her. Her features are so familiar he knows exactly who she is.

“Hello Stiles,” the woman says, pulling the hood off. Her eyes are a bright green. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Talia,” he breathes, heart racing. “How did you-? Why are you-?”

She laughs, and it sounds so much like Derek’s laugh that it makes him take a few deep breathes. “Your mother called to tell me that you were giving up on Derek, and I thought it was time for me to meddle a little.” She pulls the cloak from her shoulders. Claudia places another plate of food on the table. “Please, can we sit down?”

John and Stiles look at each other dumbly, then John moves forward and pulls out Talia’s chair. She smiles at him and touches his cheek gently. “Thank you, John.”

When they’re all seated, Talia meets Stiles’ bewildered gaze. “How do you know my family,” he asks. 

She smiles gently at his parents. “I’ve known them for years. Your mother was my spell-caster for a long time, before she got married and I found my emissary. She is my oldest friend.”

Stiles looks at his mom. “You’ve known who Derek was, this whole time you’ve known?”

“The Hales have occupied this land a long time, longer than werewolves have been known. When you told us about meeting a werewolf, I assumed it had to be someone from Talia’s pack. And then you said it was Derek, and I knew it was her son.”

He shakes his head. “But why are you here now? I mean, I’m honored to be meeting the alpha of Derek’s pack, but I don’t really understand.”

Talia wipes her mouth off, her smile dimming. “I am not here as Derek’s alpha, Stiles. I am here as his mother. He’s been-.” Her eyes look sad. “He’s been moping around the house for weeks. Not even Laura can get a rise out of him. And I know that it isn’t my business, not really, but I couldn’t let it go.”

Claudia cuts in, which shows how close she must feel to the werewolf. “Stiles, we don’t want to force either of you into anything. That would be terrible of us to try and do. But we also don’t want you do lose each other because you won’t talk.”

He’s so frustrated, so angry, all of a sudden. It makes him feel like he’s twelve again and he’s getting in trouble for doing something wrong. “I did talk to him! That’s what got me into this mess! I told him that I love him, and he said that I couldn’t, and now everything is shit. So yeah, I don’t think that we’re losing each other because we won’t talk.”

Everyone around the table is staring at him. His parents look shocked. Talia just looks amused. “Ah, I see why he likes you now. You have quite the spirit, Stiles. You would make a good wolf.”

He snorts. “No I wouldn’t. I have problems with authority apparently; Derek told me.” 

The werewolf laughs. “Maybe you would be a poor beta, but you would be a strong alpha.” That softens all of Stiles’ anger. “Now dear, before you get huffy and puffy,” he snorts at her joke, “I just want to clear something up for you. And then I promise I will stop meddling, and both your mother and I will leave you alone.” She takes a bite of her pork chop before continuing. “Derek is-. Well, he’s a very difficult person to understand sometimes. He’s lighthearted and kind, but he’s also very quiet. It’s hard for him to express himself, and it was made worse a few years ago after he was caught by some hunters. He was young when it happened, not even sixteen.”

Stiles’ breath catches. Derek never mentioned anything like that to him. “But, don’t hunters have a code?” He doesn’t know that much about them, to be honest, just that the thought of their occupation makes his sick.

Talia’s smile is sad. “One sentence can’t carry everyone, Stiles. When we got Derek back, he was different, more distant. It was very hard for him to overcome what happened to him. But he is better now, a stronger wolf because of it. When he came back that first day from hanging out with you, he told us that he had met a strange boy in the woods, and he seemed so confused by it. And then you kept showing up, and you provided for him instead of hurting him, and it confused him even more. But he liked it. He liked you. His wolf was drawn to you. I was surprised when he came to me and asked if he could go to you in his human form. We’re more vulnerable when we’re human, and he wanted to share it with you. Stiles, dear, he cares for you, quite a lot, but it’s hard for him to open up.”

Stiles presses his head into his hands. It doesn’t make any sense to him because, “Derek’s always been good at opening up to me. Even before he shifted, he let me in. I knew him before he ever said a word. And when he shifted, it just made it easier for him to talk. He told me stories, opened up to me about his pack. He’s never had a problem talking to me, okay. So it doesn’t make sense what you’re telling me. Alpha Hale, Derek told me that I can’t love him. That’s all there is to it, ma’am. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt anyone but me.”

Her eyes bleed red, making his pulse speed up. “That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. It is hurting him too. He practically lives out in the woods now, at your meeting spot. He howls at night, and it’s mournful. Derek is lost without you. I am just sorry that you cannot see that.” Her eyes return to their striking green color, and she raises. “Claudia, John, it was very good to see you. I should get back to my wolves. Thank you for dinner.” She pulls a letter from her pocket and unfolds it. “This is for you, Stiles. After we got Derek back, he couldn't talk about what he endured, so I had him write down everything he was thinking and feeling. Maybe if you read his account, you'll see why he said you couldn't love him.” 

Claudia follows Talia out the door so that they can have a word before her friend leaves. John looks at Stiles, eyebrows raised. “Well, that was an interesting conversation.” He looks at their mostly untouched plates. “Not really effective over dinner, but-. I’m heating my food up, Stiles. Do you want me to get yours too?”

Stiles doesn’t respond, instead focusing his attention on the letter. Stiles’ name is written on the envelope in an even scrawl. He picks it up and reads through its contents quickly, his heart feeling heavier with each word about what was done to Derek by the hunters, about how he thinks he's tainted.

“Son, are you okay?”

He looks over at his dad, blinking tears from his eyes. “I am an idiot. Oh god, I’m an idiot and Derek is-.” He stands up and moves to the back door, pulling it open. Talia is still there, smiling softly at Stiles in the doorway. “You have to take me to him. Please, I-.”

She reaches out and touches the side of his neck gently. Then she nods. “I have no problem taking you to the pack. I trust you as Derek trusts you. Claudia, John, you are both welcome to come along. I’m sure everyone would be pleased to see you again.”

Stiles barely hears his parents accept the invitation, though he does hear his dad’s sigh when he starts to clean up the plates. 

Talia walked to their house, but when they leave they take a car out to the preserve, and from there they walk the rest of the way. It seems like it takes forever for the large house to come into view, a massive three story home that looks warm and inviting. 

There are people milling around everywhere both in and out of their wolf forms. They all watch Talia’s approach with curious eyes. An older girl steps off the porch, smiling at Stiles widely. 

“Well damn, you really do have moles everywhere, don’t you?”

He blinks at her. “You’re Laura, right?”

Her eyes gleam. “The one and only. Thank God you’re here. Derek is insufferable.”

Talia, chuckles. “Where is your brother, Laura?”

She looks around. “I don’t know, I’m sure he’s moping around here somewhere. Der-bear, come out, come out wherever you are!”

Talia rolls her eyes and tips her head back, letting out a howl that makes all the hairs on Stiles’ body stand on end. “That should do it. Now, would any of you like some tea?”

Derek comes into view at the edge of the forest, looking like someone kicked everything he loved. Stiles stumbles off the porch, his body carrying him out into the grass. Finally, the werewolf catches his scent and freezes. Stiles walks with more confidence than he’s feeling, to stand in front of him. 

“Stiles, what are you-. How did you get here?”

Stiles shakes his head and steps closer. He reaches out and places one hand against the side of Derek’s neck, cradling his head when Derek leans into the touch with a confused sound. “You listen to me, Derek Hale. I love you,” he holds on when Derek flinches. “I love you and need you to understand that you are not a monster.” He pulls the other boy’s head down so that their foreheads are resting together. “You are not a monster, Derek.”

Derek makes a hurt noise, and then Stiles is using the grip on his neck to pull their lips together. Derek freezes for a moment before surging forward to wrap his arms around Stiles’ waist and hold him close. When they pull back, the werewolf’s eyes are glowing gold. Stiles rubs his hand down his cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He pulls his head down for another kiss. 

In the distance he can hear his dad ask, “Did we really drive all this way to watch our sons make out?”


End file.
